


White Picket Fences

by exmanhater



Series: Our Lavish Post-Apocalyptic Lifestyle [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exmanhater/pseuds/exmanhater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean swears he's not really a yenta, Castiel goes along with it for the sake of marital harmony, and Sam gets the last laugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Picket Fences

"We really need to find Sam a girlfriend," Dean says, and then immediately wishes he hadn't when Castiel responds by letting go of his cock.

"Is that really what you want to think about while I'm blowing you?" Cas asks with definite displeasure. He shifts backwards on his heels, shoving Dean away, and Dean misses the contact immediately.

"God, no," Dean says in protest. "I'm sorry, just forget I said anything."

Cas ignores him, tucks him back into his jeans and climbs onto the bed with Dean.

"Oh, no," Castiel says solemnly. "This is serious. I can't think about Sam in this kind of situation, anyway. I might decide I chose the wrong Winchester."

Dean punches Cas lightly on the shoulder and winces when his knuckles hit what feels like solid rock. He gives Cas a wounded glare. Normally, by the time Dean actually touches Cas, he's already relaxed his body enough to prevent that from happening.

"You deserved it," Castiel says without mercy.

Dean flops back on the bed and Cas follows with much more grace.

"It's not like my perfect domestic bliss makes me think everyone in the world needs to settle down with a picket fence and a dog," Dean says. Castiel looks at him curiously.

"Sarcasm," Dean answers the silent question. Cas just arches an eyebrow at him and Dean relents.

"Fine, I give up. I'm totally domesticated, fuck you very much."

Cas rubs a hand up and down Dean's back. "You love it," he accuses.

"Whatever," Dean says, struggling to keep some shred of his dignity intact. "The point is, Sam's lonely, even with you to geek out with every now and then, and me."

"He doesn't seem particularly lonely," Cas replies.

"Not like _I never see people_ lonely," Dean explains. "It's more like _I never get laid and I'm cranky_ lonely, with some _I'm still waiting for my fairytale princess to come rescue me_ lonely on the side."

"Or maybe _I nearly destroyed the world and then saved it and no one but my brother and a bunch of angels and demons will ever know about it_ lonely," Castiel suggests.

Dean looks up sharply, almost hitting Cas's jaw. "Man, I didn't want to get that emo about it," he says. "Let's just find the guy a date, for starters. We can worry about the future later."

And isn't that a luxury, Dean thinks but doesn't say. For the first time in their lives, Sam and Dean don't have to worry about what horrible, world-ending thing might be lurking around the next corner. Well, not much, anyway. Cas stares at Dean like he heard that whole thought process, but Dean's pretty sure he just does that to make Dean nervous.

"Anyway," Dean says, "you were doing something pretty important earlier." He trails off with a leer at Cas and spreads his legs, turning on his back.

"Dean Winchester," Cas says, as his hands start reaching for _very_ interested parts of Dean's body. "You are the most shameless sex addict I've ever seen."

Dean gasps as his erection comes back almost instantly, but manages to smirk at Cas. "You love it," he says.

Cas doesn't argue the point.

 

+++

 

Dean's determined to do this the human way, so he vetoes almost all of Castiel's suggestions, which mainly consist of Cas soul-gazing (or whatever he calls it) at every person he sees until he finds Sam's perfect match.

"No," Dean says for the third time. "That's cheating. I'm good with people, just you wait and see. I can find Sam a girl without any strange angel mojo."

Castiel just says "okay" in his _I'm being supportive and mature so you look like a child_ voice and flaps off to argue with Raphael about Nietzsche or cupids or whatever the hell the latest problem is in heaven. Which, yeah, pisses Dean off, but if he _shows_ that, he automatically loses. He resolves to be exceptionally smug once he manages to do this all on his own.

Of course, Sam had been very clear about Dean’s interference the last time he'd tried to help out, when Sam had come back to their motel room to find what he called "a suspiciously chipper hooker" holding a pair of handcuffs. Dean still maintains that Sam was just whiny, because that woman had been _hot_. But that's not important – the point is, Dean's grown as a person, and he's going to do a better job this time.

Three days later, though, Dean hasn't even found a one-night-stand for Sam, much less a steady girlfriend. He's still not ready to give in, so he decides that he might as well figure out what kind of girl Sam wants. He's pretty sure Sam's type hasn't changed much since middle school, the Ruby aberration aside, but it never hurts to check. The tricky part will be digging around without Sam figuring out _why_.

Dean corners Sam in the living room the next evening they both have off from work and school. It takes a while, but he manages to steer the conversation to the topic of women and dating. It's going very well – a little too well, apparently, since Sam's beginning to stare at him with worry.

"Dude," Sam says finally, breaking in during Dean's riveting tale of a night with a sex-toy box bigger than the trunk of the Impala and the most flexible woman he had ever met. "I thought you got the whole gay panic thing out of your system already."

"What?" Dean asks, kind of dumbfounded. "Of course I'm over that. Have you forgotten the last three years of my incredibly gay life?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "Unfortunately, no," he says, shuddering a little, Dean presumes, at all the _gay_ he's been forced to witness.

"Then what the fuck are you talking about?" Dean asks belligerently.

"Uh, what are _you_ talking about – you've spent the last ten minutes drooling over women and telling me all about all the chicks you used to pull," Sam replies.

Dean opens and then shuts his mouth. Okay, so, the conversation probably did sound like he was having a hetero flashback if you weren't in Dean's head, where the thought process went: talk about women, and see which anecdotes interest Sam the most. And yeah, he still liked women, still found himself attracted to people he met – he's in a relationship, not _dead_ – but the thought of cheating on Castiel, with anyone, makes him feel sick. He's sure that even if he wanted to, he wouldn't, because who would be stupid enough to cheat on an archangel? Not Dean, no matter what Sam might think. And he _doesn't_ want to, which means it didn't even occur to him that Sam might misconstrue his trip down memory lane.

"No, fuck no," Dean says quickly. "I just – I thought maybe you needed some encouragement to talk about dating again, you know."

Sam smiles. "You want to talk about girls and relationships with me?" he asks. "Are you okay with the emotional maturity something like that implies?"

Dean cuffs him in the back of the head. "Fucking jerk. See if I ask you again."

"Seriously, though," Sam replies. "Thanks. It's nice of you to ask, but I'm really not interested in getting back into that right now."

"Your biological clock's ticking away in there somewhere," Dean says. "You don't want to wait too long or it'll explode."

Sam gives him a _look_. "Ha. Ha."

 

+++

 

With no new information and an inability to explain to women that he really is asking them out for his brother, not himself, Dean seems to hit a brick wall in his quest to help Sam find his own version of a white picket fence. He's not gonna give up, though, no matter what Castiel says. His fucking honor is at stake, okay?

It doesn't help that the conversations he's had with several women have left him with the burning emotional need to go be as gay as possible for a long as possible. Preferably in front of an audience, but not in a kinky way – just in an "I have witnesses that will swear I really am gay!" kind of way.

Castiel benefits from this situation, and finds all of it intensely amusing, of course.

"I'm serious," Dean whines to Cas one afternoon after getting back from a fruitless trip to a local indie bookstore, looking for a hipster girlfriend for Sam. "Do I have a sign on my forehead that tells women to try and cure me of homosexuality?"

Castiel just pulls Dean down onto the couch and settles him into a position that lets him claim plausible deniability when it comes to cuddling while also being really fucking comfortable. Dean sinks back into Castiel's embrace.

"It's not like I'm actually gay in the first place," Dean grumbles. "But if I'm honest about being bi, they just think I'm asking for a threesome."

Castiel shifts, and starts rubbing Dean's neck absently. "Perhaps you're going about this the wrong way," he starts to say, and Dean doesn't let him finish.

"I fucking told you, I'm not letting you cheat!"

Cas squeezes his neck more roughly for a moment. "I meant," he says, "that you should have Sam _with_ you when you try to introduce him to women, instead of just talking him up as if he's your imaginary boyfriend."

Dean sits up straight. "Like a blind date, only not as totally stupid."

"Exactly," Castiel replies. "There is a girl who works at the library who might be interested."

"Did you soul-gaze at her?" Dean asks suspiciously.

Castiel huffs an amused laugh. "No, I don't know anything about her that she hasn't told me herself, verbally."

"Awesome," says Dean. "So we've just gotta get them both to the same restaurant at the same time, and maybe make sure Sam's had a beer or two, and we're golden."

It seems perfect, but then Dean has a sudden thought. "Wait, she's hot right?" he asks Castiel. "Sam's not me or anything, but he's not too ugly."

Castiel frowns at him. "She is a very intelligent woman," he starts, and Dean interrupts, because he's a douchebag like that when he wants to be.

"Wait, you don't have a crush on her, do you?" he asks grouchily. "How do you even know this girl?"

Castiel smiles predatorily at him, pushes him onto a supine position on the couch, and uses one hand to hold him down while kissing the fuck out of him. Dean's slightly lightheaded when Cas finally lets him up for air.

"Right," Dean pants. "No more stupid questions." He gives Cas a hopeful look, which is supposed to mean _more kissing, please_ , but Castiel keeps him at an arms-length.

"I met Hannah at the library when I was looking for some nihilist texts," Castiel explains. "She was very helpful, and we got to talking once I found the books I was looking for. I told her I was in a relationship already, with a man."

"Dude," Dean protests. "I know you weren't scamming on her, you don't have to – wait, are you seriously going to let Raphael read about nihilism?"

"No, I wanted to find the texts in order to keep Raphael from getting to them first," Castiel replies, and Dean heaves a sigh of relief. Raphael doesn't need that kind of encouragement, not if Dean ever wants to see his boyfriend outside of dream visitations again.

He lets Castiel go find Hannah, confident that he can talk Sam into a bar outing later in the evening, and everything goes according to plan at first. Sam had been kind of confused when Castiel showed up at the bar with a friend in tow, but he didn't let it get to him.

Hannah is pretty, in a sort of unusual way, since her features are a little too strong to be conventionally attractive, but Sam seems to like that. She's clearly very smart, and she and Sam start arguing about politics and music and art almost right away. She's loud and opinionated and doesn't give an inch when she thinks she's right. Dean thinks to himself that Castiel has pretty good taste in women.

Dean nudges Castiel somewhere around the fourth round of beer. Sam and Hannah have sort of created their own little circle of conversation, and Dean and Cas are mostly just talking to each other, or not at all. Castiel raises an eyebrow in question, and Dean grins.

"Good work," he leans over to say into Castiel's ear, since it's loud in the bar. "They're really hitting it off."

Castiel settles more firmly into his seat with a proud look, and Dean sort of wants to drag him home for celebratory blowjobs, but first he's got to make sure Sam's good to go on his own from here. He gets his chance when Hannah leaves for a bathroom trip.

He smirks at Sam and waggles his eyebrows. "You and Hannah, huh?"

That's when it all goes to shit.

Sam wrinkles his forehead and looks confused for a second, and then he laughs, hard.

"You are the worst gay person ever, Dean," he gasps. "Weren't you listening to our conversation at all?"

Dean frowns. "Uh, yeah, think I caught the important bits. You know, like how well you're getting along with her?"

Sam shakes his head, still chuckling. "She's _gay_ , smartass," he says. "That was sort of why we were talking about gay marriage and how her ex-girlfriend thought any kind of marriage was capitulating to heteronormativity but she didn't agree and that's why they broke up – is any of this ringing a bell?"

Dean slumps against the back of the booth. Then he remembers whose fault this _really_ is, and turns to Cas. "You," he growls. "What the fuck? Why'd you find Sam a lesbian girlfriend?"

Castiel looks sheepish. "You didn't want me to read her soul," he says. "I didn't know."

"You couldn't tell?" Dean asks, conveniently forgetting that he hadn't noticed anything, either. Sam hasn't forgotten, though, damn him.

"I think it's safe to say that neither of you owns a functioning gaydar," Sam says. "Hannah's really great, and she'll be a cool friend, but you two need to work on being more involved in the queer community."

"Don't lecture me about being gay," Dean growls. "Or I'll have Castiel mind-whammy you."

"I won't "mind-whammy" anyone," Castiel says stubbornly, just like every other time Dean's tried that threat.

Sam sticks his tongue out at Dean.

"Fine," Dean spits out. "We'll just be really, _really_ gay, then. Like, in the living room. On the couch. _Loudly_ , obnoxiously, gay."

Of course that's when Hannah gets back. She makes a little amused face and settles back into her seat. "I can be loudly and obnoxiously gay," she offers. "If there are any hot women around, that is."

Sam smiles, and even though the matchmaking was a serious failure, Dean has to admit that the night hasn't been a total loss. Sam hasn't laughed that much in a while.

 

+++

 

The second date they set Sam up for – well, Dean refuses to ever discuss anything that had happened that night again, and tells Castiel that if _he_ brings any of it up, he's never fucking Dean again.

He means it, and considering how much Dean enjoys getting fucked, that's saying something.

Sam, luckily, doesn't seem to remember anything other than getting totally wasted.

 

+++

 

The third not-really-a-blind-date is carefully calculated to appeal to all of Sam's interests and preferences. Dean feels like a martyr when the first strands of cuddly college emo music (otherwise known as _shit_ in Dean's lexicon) fill the air in the coffee shop. The guy on the stage has an appalling haircut, no one's drinking alcohol, Castiel is looking like he's actually enjoying himself, and Dean wants to find something to gank.

He takes a deep breath and focuses on Sam, sitting on the other side of their little table, and unaware that he's being set up. This is for Sam, Dean thinks. He can do this.

He's pretty sure Sam will like Amy – Dean likes her anyway, especially since she knows almost as much about cars as he does. They met when she needed someone to show her some advanced tricks for classic Chevrolets and a friend of hers referred her to Dean's garage. As soon as he saw what a great job she'd done with her first-generation Monte Carlo, he'd been determined to set her up with Sam, since he couldn't have her himself.

Luckily for Dean, she'd taken one look at him and said flat out that she wasn't interested. Apparently he'd been drooling over her mechanical skills a little too obviously. Once he mentioned Cas, she relaxed, and they'd fallen into an easy friendship. She doesn't know it's a setup, which Dean feels kind of guilty about, but he figures that even if she and Sam don't hit it off the way he hopes, they'll probably both still enjoy the night. Amy's one flaw, as far as Dean is concerned, is that she loves this singer-songwriter bullshit.

"Hey," he says when Amy arrives. "Amy, this is my brother Sam, and you know Cas."

"Hi, Sam," she says, sitting in the empty seat next to him.

Sam gives Dean a knowing look, but doesn't protest. "Hi," he says. "So, how do you know Dean?"

They make small talk, and Dean feels like it's going well, but when Amy gets up for a coffee refill, Sam glares at him.

"She's really cool, but it's not going to happen," Sam says firmly.

Castiel makes a concerned face at Dean, and god, he really needs to get over this matchmaking crap, if Cas is all _worried_ about him.

"You sure?" he asks Sam, just in case.

"Yes," Sam replies. "I'm just not ready, okay?"

Dean sighs. "Yeah, it's okay."

He suffers through the rest of the music, and when they leave, Amy pulls him aside for a second.

"He's not really my type," she says, kind of apologetically.

Dean smiles ruefully. "Well, apparently he's not ready for dating yet, so that's good. Sorry I dragged you out for this."

Amy laughs at him. "I had a good time, don't worry about it."

That makes him feel a little better, and when they get home, he tells Sam to put on some loud music and drags an unresisting Castiel to his room. If he's going to be a failure, he's at least going to be a failure who has lots of sex.

 

+++

 

Dean thinks Sam might have gone gay, for about five minutes, and then shakes his head in disgust when he starts trying to remember which of the gay guys he knows is currently single. What is _wrong_ with him?

 

+++

 

Dean admits defeat finally, and Castiel's attempts at cheering him up don't really do much. Dean would sort of like to rewind the last few months and avoid getting this involved in finding Sam a girl to start with, because then maybe he'd feel like less of a failure.

"You're not a failure," Castiel insists. "You did more for Sam than most brothers would do, and it's not your fault that none of the dates worked out."

Dean grimaces. "Yeah, sure." He and Cas are waiting at a bar for Sam on a Friday night. It's usually a good time, relaxing at the end of the week, especially when Cas can make it as well. Dean's not really feeling it tonight, though.

"I guess we're gonna have to do it your way," he tells Cas, but Cas just shakes his head.

"No, I think you were right at the beginning," Cas says. "We just need to wait for it to happen in a natural way, no interference of angelic or human origin."

Dean frowns again. "I guess."

"Dean," Cas says, in the voice he reserves for when Dean needs to be reminded of something important, and reaches over to lift Dean's face to meet his gaze. "Sam is lucky to have you, and so am I."

Dean flushes, predictably, and hides his smile. "Shut up," he tells Cas, and leans his shoulder against Castiel's warm side.

Sam joins them soon, and they order their food. Sam and Cas talk about one of Sam's classes and Dean tunes them out for the most part, until a vaguely familiar voice says Sam's name.

Dean watches Sam turn to the woman who just walked over to their booth.

"Sarah?" Sam asks, sounding as confused as Dean feels.

"You remembered," Sarah says, and then Dean realizes why she looks so familiar – she's Sarah Blake, the woman who'd helped them with that haunted painting so long ago.

"Yeah," Sam says, still sounding dazed. "It's really good to see you, you look great."

"Thanks," Sarah replies, pushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "You do, too."

Sam remembers Dean and Cas then, and motions to them quickly.

"Uh, you remember my brother, Dean, and this is his boyfriend, Cas," he says.

Sarah blinks at Dean for a second, and then gives him an approving smile. "Of course, it's nice to see you, Dean, and to meet you, Cas."

"Hey, Sarah," Dean says weakly, and Cas just nods a hello.

Sam slides over and Sarah joins them at their booth. "So what you are doing these days?" he asks. "Do you live here now?"

"I just moved here to start my doctorate in art history and preservation," Sarah says. "I got kind of pulled into investigating the histories of various pieces of art in the gallery once I realized some of them could be haunted, and I couldn't stop after that."

"That's so awesome," Sam says, smiling wide. "Hey, have you seen the showing of Mayan artifacts that just got to the campus? I think they're open late tonight, if you wanted to go."

Sarah nods enthusiastically, then glances at Dean and Cas. "I'd love to, but I don't want to interrupt your night out," she replies.

Castiel looks at Dean, who is caught between admiring Sam's game and being annoyed that Sam is ditching them for a girl he found all on his own, and thankfully realizes that he's going to have to do the talking.

"It's fine," he says. "You should go, Sam." He turns to look at Dean with what Dean suspects is Cas's idea of a leer.

"Dean and I can occupy ourselves," Cas adds, and Sam laughs.

"Okay," he tells Sarah, and they both stand up. "See you at home, guys."

"Nice to see you again, Dean," Sarah says, and Dean just nods and smiles.

"What just happened?" Dean turns to ask Cas, genuinely confused, as Sam walks away with Sarah.

"Sam found a date, and most likely a girlfriend, at a bar in the space of about ten minutes with no help from either of us," Cas replies promptly and Dean slaps him, just on principle.

 

+++

 

When Sam gets home that evening, Dean is waiting. Sam creeps in at about two am, obviously trying to avoid waking anyone, but Dean is determined to get this done now.

"Have a good time?" he asks, giving away his position on the couch, and Sam jumps.

"Jesus!" he yells. "Uh, yeah, I had a good time. What are you waiting up for?"

"Just wanted to make sure this is what you want," Dean says gruffly. "I've been throwing women at you for a month and you kept saying you didn't want to date and then you just up and find one out of the blue. I'm a little hurt, man. My taste in women's not good enough for you?"

Sam sits on the couch next to Dean and gets a concerned little wrinkle on his forehead. "I wasn't lying," he says. "I didn't want to date anyone until I saw Sarah again, and realized I could have a second chance."

Dean nods. "I get it, as long as you're sure."

"She's pretty awesome," Sam says. "And gorgeous, and knows about all the shit that goes bump in the night. What's not to be sure about?"

"Wait," Dean says, grinning as he remembers something. "I told you to marry her, didn't I? Back when you first met."

Sam squints. "Uh, I don't know. I usually tune out anything you say to me about women."

"Fucker," Dean says, and slugs Sam on the shoulder. "I still get all the credit, whether you remember it or not."

Sam smiles evilly. "Sure, Dean. You're the most awesome matchmaker in the history of time. Wait until all the guys at the garage hear about your skill in the romantic arts!"

Dean's jaw drops. "You wouldn't," he tells Sam desperately.

"Oh, I would," Sam replies, and heads off to bed with a satisfied grin.

Dean sits on the couch for a minute and boggles at his life – his ridiculous, domestic, stupidly awesome life – and then heads to his own bedroom. Cas promised to be back in the morning, and Dean falls asleep in anticipation of waking up to some truly fantastic morning sex.

He'll let Sam have this one, he decides. He's a good older brother.


End file.
